


when i talk to my friends so quietly

by someidiothasice



Series: Crazy in Love [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: AU, M/M, music industry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someidiothasice/pseuds/someidiothasice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re my favorite, Sneaky. You really are. I’ll make sure Jake knows to never, ever hit you in the face under threat of celibacy.”</p><p>“Just arm wrestle him for it. If he wins I’ll let him take a free shot,” Danny said, confident in Claude’s ability. Jake might be bigger than he was but Claude was freakishly strong. Plus, Jake really was a sweet guy. He'd never actually hit Danny. He hoped. Jake was huge. It would definitely hurt. “Also, maybe don’t let him hear you telling me I’m your favorite. That’s probably part of why he thinks you have a big, gay crush on me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	when i talk to my friends so quietly

One of the drawbacks of having children was feeling the compulsion to answer his cell phone at all times, including four in the morning when he was sleeping.

Danny groaned and rolled over, answering it with something in the vicinity of a hello.

“He wants me to buy a new couch,” a harried voice hissed at him. Danny pulled back his phone to blearily check the display.

“Claude?”

“Last night fucking Hartsy told him we hooked up once and we had a big fight over it,” Claude whispered in his ear. “Now he refuses to sit on the fucking thing and I'm locked out of my own fucking bedroom."

Danny tried to blink away the drive to hang up and go back to sleep. It didn’t really work. “Why are you whispering? Wait, you hooked up with Hartsy? When?”

“What? No, you ass. And ew.”

“What do you _want_?” Danny whined.

“Are you listening? My boyfriend is being stupid over a couch and it’s all your fault!”

“How is this my fault?”

“He knows we hooked up!” Claude’s whisper was reaching dangerously high levels. Danny would’ve laughed at him, but he was pretty sure he was too tired for it. “Me and you. Remember the night with the tequila right before _28_ was released?”

“Jesus, that was years ago! Before you guys even met.”

“Yeah, well. He says if we’re gonna live together I have to get rid of the couch. Danny, what do I do? I love that fucking couch! I’ve had it since our First Line days. I bought it after our very first tour in Canada!”

“You woke me up for this? Just get rid of the stupid couch. You can afford to buy a better one.” Danny yawned and was prepared to hang up, then what Claude said registered. “Oh my god, you’re moving in together? Claude, that’s great!”

“Yes, we will be living in sin, it’s awesome,” Claude said in a rush, “except how me and you can never hang out again because Jake is convinced I’ve had some pathetic crush on you for years and thinks I’m going to jump you or something. Now that he knows we kissed on my couch he wants to hit you in the face and then probably cry about it.”

Turns out Danny did have it in him to laugh.

“This isn’t funny!”

“Oh, I beg to differ. You’re really into him, aren’t you? My baby is all grown up. Remember when you didn’t even really like him? You were so shallow before you got forehead wrinkles.”

“Shut up,” Claude hissed at him. Danny imagined he was touching his forehead right now, the vain bastard, and grinned evilly. “I remember no such thing.”

“You don’t remember whining at me two years ago that this muppet thug was trying to get into your pants? Which, by the way, Caelan wants you to know you should stop wearing leather. He says you look like a pimp queen.”

“ _I do not look like a pimp queen!_ ” The whisper was long gone, now.

“Everyone thinks you look like a pimp queen in those pants,” Danny told him gently. He needed to know. Of course, Claude was likely to start wearing them every day of the week now out of spite. “And Jake likes me as a person way too much to actually hit me. Did you tell him we were drunk and you threw up in my lap after?”

“Danny, every time we hang out we get drunk and puke. It's a fact well-documented on Twitter and Instagram. I don’t think he’d find that very comforting.”

“Just move the couch to your place in LA. And stop posting pictures of me on the internet, you human disaster,” Danny grumbled.

“I can’t. I sold the LA condo to Carts when he moved. I told you that before, keep up!”

Danny yawned again. “I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I will if all you’re going to do is yell at me. Why is the couch so important to you?” Danny asked, curious. The couch wasn’t an eyesore or anything but it had seen liquor, lube, melted cheese, vomit, jism, and (on one memorable occasion when Claude had Zoe and Zora for a week while Danny was on vacation) dog shit. He’s pretty sure what Claude paid for cleaning it repeatedly was worth the price of it ten times over.

It _was_ pretty comfy, though; a big wraparound with deep cushions that you could really spread out on. And the corner had a perfect Briere butt imprint that Danny spent years making. Fuck, now Danny was thinking about that stupid couch.

“That couch is a part of me! It’s practically my child. It’s seen so much,” Claude said mournfully. After a quiet minute or two of Danny silently judging him Claude mumbled something incomprehensible that Danny didn’t catch.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak stupid. What was that?”

“Jake and I had our first time on that couch, okay? It’s... like a souvenir. That I really want to keep.”

“You’re an idiot,” Danny said fondly. And Claude was, he really was, but he was a very sweet idiot. “Call some movers. I’ll take your stupid couch off your hands and put it in my basement. Then you guys can buy a new one together that you can fuck all over and make new memories on. A nice new couch that I will never, ever sit on.”

“Really? You’ll take it?” Claude sounded stupidly excited at the prospect. Danny snorted.

“As long as you get it cleaned before you ship it off, yes. And remove all the lube and condoms you hid in it." Claude made a noise of protest, but Danny wasn't fooled. "You lived with me for a year. I know you like to hide them in the cushions so you don't have to get up. Can I go back to sleep, now?”

“You’re my favorite, Sneaky. You really are. I’ll make sure Jake knows to never, ever hit you in the face under threat of celibacy.”

“Just arm wrestle him for it. If he wins I’ll let him take a free shot,” Danny said, confident in Claude’s ability. Jake might be bigger than he was but Claude was freakishly strong. Plus, Jake really was a sweet guy. He'd never actually hit Danny. He hoped. Jake was huge. It would definitely hurt. “Also, maybe don’t let him hear you telling me I’m your favorite. That’s probably part of why he thinks you have a big, gay crush on me.”

“Please, we met when I was like twelve. I _did_ have a big, gay crush on you. Then I got to know you and realized what a bad life choice that was and got over it really quickly. The kiss was me exorcising some demons or something.”

“I’m hanging up now.” Danny threw an arm over his face, embarrassed for Claude of the past. “This time I mean it. Go look at couches with your muppet thug life rapper and leave me alone.”

“Love you, too, cookie monster!” Claude called right before Danny hung up. He had a few blissful moments of silence, and was just drifting off when his phone went off again. Danny pulled his pillow over his face and shouted into it before he picked his phone up again.

“What now?”

“Dad! Don’t get mad, okay, but I think I broke my leg.”

Danny sighed and got up, searching for his pants. There was never a dull moment when you had kids, regardless of whether they were boisterous teenagers or rising pop sensations.

**Author's Note:**

> Flames only feed my hunger.


End file.
